Free My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One by Shane Grey

or
myself?
    “Sloppy Deb.” Dick
said.
    “Oh, yeah. She said to
call if we need anything.” I said. Then my body went rigid. I was
terrified to turn to my left, Dick had spoken from beyond the grave
and he was sitting next to me, I thought. With all my might, I
forced a look to the left.
    Dick sat on the previously empty stool at
our bar counter.
    “Hey.” I said.
    “Hey, dude.” He said. His
throat had puncture wounds. The belly of his shirt was soaked in
blood. He wore his pizza delivery outfit.
    “I'm officially fuckin'
nuts, right?” I asked him.
    “Either that or you're
imagining me to help you through some trauma. Maybe later, after
you have fulfilled some purpose, maybe I'll disappear, dude.” Dead
Dick said.
    “So you're not really
here?”
    “I guess not, man. Make me
disappear.” He said. I blinked hard, he disappeared. The stool now
empty, drink in front of me still full, the kitchen
empty.
    I downed my drink and I figured to be on a
one way track to the looney bin.
    By the time Lorrie woke up my bags were
packed and breakfast was close to being done. The toaster beeped
and spit up two blueberry Pop-Tarts. I loved the sprinkles on the
blueberry ones. It made breakfast so much happier. The bowl was
full of Lucky Charms. Breakfast was ready for Lorrie.
    Oh, yeah, I can't cook.
    And I grocery shop like an 8 year old with a
car and credit card.
    DISCLAIMER: My best friends bucket list does
not recommend refusing to learn how to cook based on the bias that
whatever woman you marry will prepare and cook every meal ever for
you. This is not the idea of every woman, despite the fact that
modern women have a problem being subservient to men. Any
complaints on these issues can be forwarded to Shane Grey.
    I didn't have a plan as Lorrie sat down at
the counter. She looked at me and smiled lazily, sleepily.
    “ Thanks.” She
said.
    “ No problem. How are you
this morning?” I asked timidly.
    “ Okay. Where's the Jack
Daniels? Why are you drinking coffee?” She asked.
    “ I made you some green
tea. Maybe we cut back a little, just in the mornings, you know for
health purposes.” I said, weakly. I didn't believe it
myself.
    “ FUCK THAT.” Lorrie tore
apart the cupboards behind me, then the innocent cabinets. “Where'd
you put it, Tuck?”
    “ Yeah, Tuck, where is it?
Mr. Hypocrite?” The voice belonged to Dick Pickett. He sat on
Lorrie's stool. Still messy and bloody.
    I looked at Lorrie, she was scowling, I
pointed to her stool. She looked.
    “ What the FUCK are you
pointing at?” Was her response. Dick laughed and blood spurted from
his gut.
    “ Just eat your breakfast
and don't cuss at me, it's not lady like.” I said. Lorrie put her
head down and began crying.
    “ I'm sorry. I shouldn't
take shit out on you. I mean, stuff. You've been a true best friend
through all of this.” Lorrie hugged me. Dick winked, put a thumbs
up, then disappeared.
    I did an epic eye roll. My life was falling
to fucking pieces. I was seeing my dead best friend. Something had
to give. No one could take this much tragedy and mental anguish.
Did this scenario end with a sniper rifle and a deserted book
depository?(that's right, I went there).
    Lorrie went to sit back down to eat her
breakfast, she almost tripped over my duffel bag, the look on her
face I could not describe.
    “ YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME
AGAIN!” She cried out.
    “ No, no, no. I'm just
going to see my mom. It's nothing. I'll be back late
tonight.”
    “ Why ARE YOU TAKING A BAG
THEN?”
    “ It's just in case I need
to spend the night. Trust me, I know what I'm doing and it's vital
to take an over night bag in case.” I said. The door bell
rang.
    “ Who is that?” She asked,
livid.
    “ Sloppy Deb. She's gonna
watch after you. I can't leave you alone. I would be too
worried.”
    “ Fuckin' great.” Lorrie
sat at the counter and picked at her Pop-Tart. She reminded me of a
little girl, my heart fluttered, she was adorable. Spoiled, but
adorable.
    I